Episode 02, VS75 Out of the Box
by Voyager Season 7.5
Summary: For over six years, despite the odds against them, Voyager has survived ...is their luck about to run out?


Episode 2  
OUT OF THE BOX  
by Rocky  
  
  
Prologue  
  
A hot dry wind blew, stirring the red sands. Tuvok was aware of the fine   
stinging particles against his skin, but felt no discomfort. His nostrils   
flared, catching the scent of predator carried on the wind. In the hollow under   
some rocks, the glitter of eyes told him he was being observed.  
  
He knelt down, carefully arranging the folds of his meditation robe about him.   
Slowly, methodically, his breathing and heart rate dropped to an almost   
imperceptible level as his mind reached out beyond the walls of the holodeck,   
through space and time to the plains of Vulcan. A sense of calm pervaded his   
being, calm that had evaded him in his own quarters. Never hurrying, he began   
the mental exercises that gradually took him through the various meditative   
levels. He could see the inner flame, shining like a beacon. He sought to grasp   
it--  
  
And instantly the other images, the ones he'd been struggling to hold at bay,   
intervened.  
  
A jumbled montage of scenes, each lingering for only an instant. The stark,   
dimly lit corridors of a Borg cube. His own hand covered with silvery Borg   
implants. The sound of his voice stating Voyager's shield frequencies, followed   
by the Queen's satisfied, "Thank you, Tuvok." Captain Janeway, in the grasp of   
Gul Datik, disappearing in a transporter beam. A desperate fire fight in the   
ship's corridors against advancing Hirogen hunters. An unknown assailant   
stalking Voyager's crew, striking only at the former Maquis. The realization   
that the culprit who'd stolen the Doctor's program was long gone. Ensign Kim's   
voice yelling, "They've accessed our primary systems!" Crewmembers being beamed   
off the ship by hostile forces. The image of an unconscious and tortured Captain   
Janeway on a bed in Sickbay, with the knowledge that he was the one responsible   
for putting her there.  
  
Tuvok's eyes opened with a jerk. He was sweating profusely, his heart pounding   
wildly in his side. His voice hoarse, he croaked, "Computer, end program."  
  
The red sands vanished instantly. For several moments, Tuvok lay upon the bare   
metal floor, staring with unseeing eyes at the dull yellow and gray grid that   
covered the walls. Only when he was sure his features were once more schooled   
into his habitual emotionless expression, did he rise and leave the holodeck.  
  
Act I  
  
"Lieutenant!" Tuvok barked.  
  
Ayala lifted his head, exhaustion evident in every line of his body. "Yes, sir?"  
  
"Your team took an excessive 6.2 seconds to gain entry to the transporter room.   
In that time, the marauders had more than sufficient time to bring an additional   
number of attackers on board, as well as begin beaming our crew to the planet   
below."  
  
"I'm sorry, Commander, but we were unable to get past the lockout and had to   
access the door manually--"  
  
"No excuses, Lieutenant," the security chief said coldly. "Had this been an   
actual occurrence instead of a drill, that delay would seriously jeopardize the   
welfare of the entire ship. Every second is precious under these circumstances."   
Tuvok turned abruptly to the next member of the team. "Mr. Rollins, your   
performance was inadequate as well. Not only did the attackers easily subdue the   
members of your unit, but you neglected to modify the consoles to prevent access   
to the primary systems, including life support."  
  
Dalby, who had been slumped against the wall with some of the others, hastily   
straightened up as the Vulcan's gaze swept over him. The former Maquis bore his   
castigation stoically, but then muttered under his breath, "Geez, who died and   
made *him* captain?" Ayala's snort of laughter was cut short when Tuvok   
stiffened.  
  
With his superior hearing, Tuvok had easily heard the remark and knew with   
certainty that had been Dalby's intention. Considering his poor performance in   
the drill, the man's attitude was bordering on insubordination. As the commander   
opened his mouth to respond, he thought back to when he had approached Captain   
Janeway for permission to implement this enhanced training program, along with   
other new security protocols.  
  
To his surprise, a grin briefly tugged at the corners of the captain's mouth.   
Tuvok's own lips tightened. "I fail to see what is humorous about the topic of   
security breaches, Captain, particularly in light of the serious consequences of   
our most recent incidents. Threats to the welfare of this vessel, let alone its   
continued existence, are hardly laughing matters."  
  
"I'm sorry, Tuvok," Janeway said contritely, getting up from behind her desk and   
walking over to where he stood stiffly at attention. "It's just this isn't the   
first time you've lectured me about inadequate attention to tactical and   
security matters."  
  
"I have not brought this topic up previously--"  
  
"I didn't mean on board Voyager. I was referring to when we first met, thirteen   
years ago. Remember?" Janeway shook her head in bemusement. "I was a brevet   
captain undergoing an official review of my first command mission. You were the   
tactical review officer who found no less than 43 violations of proper operating   
procedure on my part--all instances where I'd failed to hold the specified   
number of battle readiness drills or reviews of the weapons systems."  
  
Tuvok nodded. "Indeed. I never understood why you were so remiss, particularly   
as our later acquaintance revealed your careful attention to detail in other   
areas relating to command directives and protocol."  
  
"We were just a small research vessel, Tuvok, not a battle cruiser," the captain   
began. "There was scarcely a need for such--" She obviously decided it was   
fruitless to pursue that line of argument. "At any rate, the board of review   
found that your complaints had merit, and decided you would be a good choice to   
keep me on the straight and narrow." Janeway smiled. "And I've been saddled with   
you ever since."  
  
"I apologize for any inconvenience."  
  
"Don't be silly," she admonished, laying her hand gently on his arm. "I don't   
know what I would have done without you all these years." She glanced once more   
at the PADD he'd handed her, and a note of concern entered her voice. "In all   
seriousness, Tuvok, what's the real reason for revamping our security   
procedures? I'm not saying it's not a good idea, but why the sudden rush to   
implement this new set of protocols?"  
  
"As head of security, as well as chief tactical officer, it is my job to deal   
with any threats to the vessel," he said. "There have been far too many of them,   
particularly in the past few months. In hindsight, a number of crises could have   
been prevented, or at least had their effects mitigated, if the proper measures   
had been taken. Obviously, the protocols currently in existence are inadequate."  
  
She caught his unspoken implication at once. "You are not personally to blame   
for any breakdowns in our security."  
  
"It was I who implemented the security protocols," Tuvok pointed out.  
  
"At my order."  
  
"Nonetheless, I am responsible for their execution." He met her gaze squarely.   
"As I was also responsible for.. ." For some reason, he couldn't bring himself   
to mention her abduction by the Cardassians. "The various times the ship was   
taken over by hostile aliens," he finished.  
  
"Tuvok," she said firmly. "You were *not* to blame. In either of your official   
capacities." The captain sighed. "More remarkable than the fact that we were   
boarded or otherwise overpowered so many times is that it didn't occur more   
frequently. Or with more devastating results."  
  
"The results were sufficiently devastating," he noted.  
  
The captain gave him a look. "At no time did I indicate that I was unhappy with   
your efforts."  
  
"Perhaps you should have. In addition, the number of times key systems have been   
compromised, or unauthorized personnel gained access to sensitive areas or   
equipment, could rightly be viewed as unacceptable."  
  
"Well, I can't argue with you there." An edge crept into Janeway's voice.   
"However, I'm not blaming you for these lapses, Commander, and you shouldn't   
either."  
  
Unbidden, the picture rose once more of what had happened when Janeway had   
agreed to meet with the leader of the crippled Cardassian vessel. Tuvok and   
another security officer had been present in the transporter room when Gul Datik   
beamed over. But despite his perceived readiness for trickery, the Cardassian   
had outsmarted him. Outsmarted them all. They had very nearly lost the captain   
permanently due to his carelessness, his failure to fully prepare for   
duplicitous behavior. Such an occurrence was unacceptable and could not be   
permitted to happen again. It would not happen again.  
  
He didn't know how much the captain guessed, but at length, she nodded. "Very   
well, Tuvok. Go ahead with your security protocols, as well as scheduling some   
ship-wide battle drills. I'll go over these new tactical subroutines you've   
submitted. Dismissed."  
  
With renewed determination, Tuvok surveyed the weary security officers standing   
in front of him and announced, "We will take a short break, and then reconvene   
on the holodeck at 1500. There is another series of drills with which I want you   
to familiarize yourselves."  
  
***  
Tom Paris threaded his way through the Mess Hall, balancing a tray and a cup of   
coffee, heading toward the table in the far corner. He snagged a chair with his   
foot and sat down. "Sorry I'm late."  
  
Torres glanced over at him. "I was beginning to wonder, Tom. I thought you were   
just doing some routine maintenance on the Delta Flyer. What took so long?"  
  
"Is the directional control still acting up?" Kim asked.  
  
"No, no, nothing like that," Paris waved their concerns away. "Everything's   
fine. In fact, I finished the work on the Flyer early, and decided to get a head   
start on some of the other shuttle overhauls. But remember the announcement a   
few days ago that 'new security protocols' would be going into effect?"  
  
"Yeah, what about them?" said Torres. She leaned over and helped herself to some   
of his dessert.  
  
"I couldn't access any external systems from the console in the shuttlebay,"   
Paris said, batting her hand away. "Couldn't even manually open the doors of the   
bay to test the sealant and force field grids. The computer kept telling me   
those functions could only be accessed from Engineering or the Bridge."  
  
Kim nodded. "That sounds like what happened to me. I was in Astrometrics   
earlier, and had to call Engineering and ask B'Elanna to divert more power to   
the sensor relays."  
  
"I was wondering why you did that," Torres said absently, her attention focused   
on her husband's tray. Paris sighed and relinquished the slice of afarsek pie.   
"Not that I minded, but I couldn't understand why you didn't simply do it   
yourself."  
  
"The computer informed me that power diversions from one system to another was a   
high level function and could only be implemented from a secure console," said   
Kim.  
  
Paris smiled humorlessly. "Welcome to the new regime, folks. Our chief of   
security has decided that multiple access to certain ship's functions should be   
restricted in the name of safety."  
  
"Are you sure?" asked Torres.  
  
"Got it straight from the horse's mouth."  
  
Kim shook his head impatiently at yet another of Paris' twentieth century   
metaphors. "What horse? You mean you asked Tuvok about this?"  
  
"Didn't need to. I got all I wanted to know, and then some, from listening to   
the Doctor grumble about being unable to practice implementing his 'Emergency   
Command Code' functions from Sickbay. Instead, he's got to settle for a   
simulation on the holodeck, which means giving up some of his precious tee   
time."  
  
Torres smiled. "He could always ask permission to practice on the Bridge   
itself."  
  
"Give you some competition for being in charge during the Gamma shift, Harry,"   
Paris added meaningfully.  
  
"Oh no--I'm not ready to give that up," Kim said with a mock frown. "And don't   
say it, Tom--that is *not* the closest I'll ever get to the command chair. I'm   
not going to stay an ensign forever."  
  
"You just keep telling that to yourself, Harry," said Torres, patting his arm   
sympathetically.  
  
They ate in silence for a few moments. Paris grimaced and pushed away his   
half-finished plate of leola root stew. "I agree that we could use some   
improvement in our basic security protocols--there have been too many close   
shaves recently--but I do think Tuvok is carrying this crusade of his a little   
too far."  
  
Torres said, "You're not the only one, come to think of it--you should hear   
Ayala. Tuvok's been running him and the rest of the security teams ragged. And   
Dalby says it's even worse than the time Tuvok put him and Chell through   
'remedial training.'"  
  
"With all the increased security measures," Paris said, dropping his voice to a   
conspiratorial whisper, "I wonder what's next--keeping the leola root under lock   
and key?"  
  
"Sure," said Kim, with a straight face. "I think it could be justifiably   
classified as either a controlled substance--or a weapon!"  
  
"Hey, why not go one further and post a guard in the kitchen?," suggested   
Torres, her eyes dancing. "Neelix would probably welcome any measures which   
would put an end to unauthorized midnight snacking."  
  
Their laughter was cut short when they became aware of Tuvok standing next to   
their table, his expression more severe than usual. "Lieutenants Paris and   
Torres, Ensign Kim. Such frivolity regarding the implementation of security   
measures is highly improper." His gaze fell on each of them in turn. Kim looked   
uncomfortable. "Access to the majority of the ship's systems must be restricted   
to one or two secure areas in order to minimize the possibility of tampering by   
unauthorized personnel. Any inconvenience you suffer is a small price to pay if   
it improves the safety of this ship and crew."  
  
"It's not just a question of convenience, Tuvok," Paris began reasonably.  
  
But Tuvok wasn't finished. "And may I remind you," he said, his voice sharp.   
"That whether you care for it or not, eternal vigilance is necessary to ensure   
our continued survival." He stalked away without waiting for any further   
response.  
  
They watched him go. "Whew!" said Paris, "Who shoved a stick up his--"  
  
"Tom!" protested Torres.  
  
"Sorry." Paris subsided for a moment, but then added defensively, "Haven't you   
noticed that lately Tuvok has been acting more....Vulcan than usual?"  
  
"Is that possible?" asked Torres, crumpling up her napkin.  
  
"Search me," answered Paris. "If I didn't know any better, I'd almost think he   
was going through..." His voice trailed off lamely, as he wasn't about to betray   
Tuvok's confidence and mention his recent pon farr. Instead, Paris said, "Maybe   
it's the post-assimilation blues still affecting him."  
  
B'Elanna nodded immediately, and her face clouded over. "Kahless knows, it took   
a long time for me to get over the experience and I had a much better support   
system." She squeezed Tom's hand. "It makes me wonder, who does Tuvok have to   
turn to?"  
  
Her husband smiled at her. "I don't know, Be. Tuvok is a Vulcan, and Vulcans   
don't believe in support systems like humans do. He's probably better off   
working out whatever is bugging him on his own." Paris sighed. "I just wish he   
wasn't taking it out on the rest of the crew."  
  
Kim shook his head. "It could also be Tuvok is just working too hard and needs   
to unwind." A thoughtful expression passed over his face. "Maybe he could use a   
little help."  
  
Act 2  
  
Janeway rose and went to the replicator. "Would you like a refill?" she called   
over her shoulder.  
  
"No, thanks," Chakotay replied. "I've had my quota for the day."  
  
"There's no such thing as a quota for coffee," she admonished, taking a sip of   
her own replenished mug. She wondered in passing if he knew just what number cup   
she was up to.  
  
Chakotay smiled, and stretched to relieve the crick in his neck. "There is if   
you're out of replicator rations."  
  
"Isn't that what friends are for?" she asked, smiling in return as she sat down   
next to him on the couch.  
  
"Friendship has nothing to do with it," he corrected her. "If it's a choice   
between giving up the rations, or dealing with you when you're deprived of your   
caffeine fix, well, let's just say it's not a tough decision to make."  
  
"I suppose I should be grateful you put up with me," she said.  
  
"Definitely." Janeway shot him a questioning glance, not entirely sure he was   
joking.  
  
She hurriedly picked up another PADD. "I think we're just about finished here.   
Just one more report and we can get back to the Bridge."  
  
Chakotay nodded, and unsuccessfully stifled a yawn. "It's about time. We've been   
holed up in the Ready Room for nearly the entire shift."  
  
"Getting tired of my company, Commander?" she asked innocently, taking another   
sip of coffee.  
  
"Never, Captain," he said immediately, flashing her a grin.  
  
"So what do we have left?"  
  
His grin faded. "Security."  
  
She looked up at the change in his voice. "Is there a problem?"  
  
Chakotay exhaled slowly. "Frankly, there isn't one now, but if something isn't   
done soon, we may very well have a mutiny on our hands." At her expression, he   
quickly amended, "In a manner of speaking. What I mean is that the crew is   
starting to lose patience with these new regulations that Tuvok's instituted.   
The simplest procedures are now needlessly complicated because of the limited   
access to various systems."  
  
He paused, as if expecting her to comment, but when she made no move to do so,   
he went on. "Then there are the simulated red alerts and battle drills. I don't   
think there's a single person who's had an uninterrupted sleeping period for the   
past week. We're passing through a relatively quiet region of space, but you   
wouldn't know it from all these disruptions. And now Tuvok wants to institute   
hand-to-hand combat training for all crewmembers, as well as have the entire   
ship undergo recertification in the use of sidearms."  
  
Janeway was silent for a long moment, then sighed. "Let him go ahead and do   
this, Chakotay. I know the crew is grumbling, but...it certainly can't hurt and   
if it has the added plus of improving ship's defenses, all well and good. "  
  
"Security on this vessel for the past six years hasn't exactly been   
lax--Starfleet protocols have been carried out to the letter."  
  
"Protocols that were written in the Alpha Quadrant," she pointed out. "As we   
both know, things don't always look the same out here. Tuvok obviously feels we   
need to make up the difference."  
  
Chakotay gave her a penetrating glance. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say   
he's acting out of a sense of guilt."  
  
Janeway rubbed the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache coming on. "One of the   
more common fallacies is to assume that Vulcans don't have emotions," she said.   
"They do--they just keep them very tightly under control most of the time."  
  
"Well, this is one Vulcan whose control is slipping. Ever since the Cardassian   
incident, he's been acting like a man possessed."  
  
"That's one interpretation," she said quietly.  
  
"You're right. One could say this started even earlier--after we recovered the   
three of you from the Borg." Chakotay leaned forward, and caught her gaze in his   
own. "I think you agree with me, Kathryn. Whether he'll admit it or not, Tuvok   
feels he has personally slipped up--so he's trying to exonerate himself."  
  
Janeway looked away, focused on the PADD in her hand. "Does it really matter   
what his motives are?" she countered. "We *have* often escaped disaster by a   
hair's breadth and we can't expect our luck to hold forever. These changes may   
very well be essential for our continued survival."  
  
"But to go to such extremes--"  
  
"Everyone has a burden of guilt to carry around, Chakotay." Janeway walked over   
to the viewport, looked out at the endless stars. "There's nothing that comes to   
*your* mind, late at night, when you're lying in bed unable to sleep?"  
  
It was Chakotay's turn to hesitate. "I see your point." He sighed. "So you're   
signing off on this?"  
  
She nodded and did exactly that. Placing it on her desk, she said, "Come on,   
Chakotay, it's time to go back to minding the store."  
  
He got to his feet as well. "Can I ask you something before we leave, Captain?"  
  
She nodded once more, warily. "Yes?"  
  
"What's the *most* common fallacy about Vulcans?"  
  
Janeway gave him a wintry smile. "That Vulcans are incapable of lying. To   
themselves or to others."  
  
  
***  
First Interlude  
  
In the dark reaches of space, a small scoutship moved silently among the   
interstellar dust. It was running in 'gray mode'--no excessive energy   
expenditures. That, together with the special material coating its hull,   
rendered it nearly invisible to any inquisitive eyes. Of course, it could still   
be detected by other means--if anyone should think to look for it, or adjust   
their instruments accordingly.  
  
The ship gave no cause for anyone to do so.  
  
It glided along, to all appearances just another bit of space flotsam , except   
that the intelligence aboard was fully aware of everything that moved within the   
boundaries of its patrol area. As it was aware of the sleek Federation vessel   
which had recently entered its space.  
  
Maintaining a distance of 10,000 kilometers, the scoutship shadowed the   
intruder. It made no aggressive moves; its job was simply to observe.  
  
If anything further were required, there were others for those tasks.  
  
Act 3  
  
When the door signal chimed a second time, Tuvok rose and went to the door. His   
face gave no sign of any annoyance he may have felt at the interruption. Nor did   
he register any when he saw who his visitor was.  
  
"Good evening, Mr. Vulcan!" Neelix said cheerfully, stepping around Tuvok and   
into the room. He held out his hands in front of him. "See--no plomeek soup," he   
said, referring to the time he'd actually brought some to the tactical station   
on the Bridge, assuming Tuvok was suffering from the 'flu.  
  
"That is well," Tuvok answered gravely, "As I have already eaten."  
  
"That's a good one!" the Talaxian laughed. "And they say Vulcans don't have a   
sense of humor."  
  
"We do not." Tuvok bent to extinguish the fire pot on the table.  
  
Neelix's eyes followed the movement. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."  
  
"I was attempting to meditate." Tuvok straightened up once more. "What can I do   
for you, Mr. Neelix?"  
  
"I was wondering if you had some time to talk?"  
  
Tuvok stiffened. "I am not in need of your services as morale officer."  
  
"I didn't say I was here in an official capacity," Neelix said quickly. "I'm   
here as a friend."  
  
It was on the tip of Tuvok's tongue to order the other man away, to insist that   
he had nothing to discuss with him. But he couldn't. Though he would never   
acknowledge it out loud, Neelix knew him, down to his very core, the way few   
other people did. It was largely due to the time a transporter accident had   
caused them to be melded into a single entity known as Tuvix. Though they hadn't   
been aware as individuals during that period, nonetheless they had each gotten a   
glimpse at the other's soul, so to speak, forged a subliminal bond which had   
persisted even after they'd been separated.  
  
Tuvok gazed at the Talaxian in his garish clothing, his entire exuberant manner   
the antithesis of everything Vulcan. Nowhere could one possibly find two people   
more different than each other, and yet, there was an affinity between them. He   
remembered once again how, when he lost his memory and his capacity for logic,   
it was Neelix who stuck by him, Neelix who attempted to help him regain his old   
life, and when that proved to be unsuccessful, was quietly supportive of his   
efforts to create a new one. Beneath the man's annoying exterior, there was a   
kind and caring individual. Tuvok strove to remember that now and bit back his   
almost instinctive response.  
  
"Thank you, but I have no need for a friend at the moment," he said.  
  
Neelix smiled gently. "That's fine, but *I* do."  
  
"You are in need of counsel?" Tuvok asked. Perhaps he had mistaken Neelix's   
motives.  
  
"In a manner of speaking, yes," Neelix answered. "May I sit down?"  
  
"Please." Tuvok indicated a chair and ordered the cabin lights up to normal   
levels.  
  
"Thank you." Neelix sat down and sighed. "Ah. I spend so much of the day   
standing, yet my feet only hurt when I sit down." Tuvok wondered, with a hint of   
alarm, if his visitor were about to slip off his boots, but thankfully Neelix   
made no move to do so.  
  
"How may I be of assistance?"  
  
"Oh, there are a number of little things that are nagging at me. Each by itself   
is minor, relatively speaking, but taken together--although I wonder if I'm   
making more of them than I should."  
  
"What are these minor concerns of yours?"  
  
Neelix sighed once more. "The other day, in the Mess Hall, I couldn't help but   
overhear some of the crew talking. You'd think that after all these years I'd   
have gotten used to comments about my cooking, would be able to smile at the   
latest leola root jokes, but still...I don't think anyone quite realizes how   
much work goes into preparing meals for 150 people on a daily basis. Even taking   
into account those who use replicator rations, or eat on the holodeck, it's   
still a tremendous amount of work. It's also a round the clock job, what with   
different crew working different shifts and wanting meals at different times."  
  
Tuvok nodded in what he hoped was a non-committal fashion. He had witnessed just   
the sort of thing Neelix was talking about. "You are feeling unappreciated. Go   
on."  
  
"And then there's Naomi."  
  
"Is there a problem with Miss Wildman?"  
  
"No, Naomi's a wonderful child, as always." Neelix stopped and furrowed his   
brow. "But that's just it--she's growing up and in many ways isn't a little girl   
anymore. She's spending more and more of her time with Icheb, at her   
studies--it's been ages since she sat and helped me bake cookies or pestered me   
to tell her stories."  
  
"Children do eventually grow up," Tuvok pointed out. "As a parent, I am aware   
that it is often not easy to observe the process. However, it is preferable to   
having them remain dependent for the rest of their lives."  
  
"Yes," Neelix said. "But compared to a Talaxian, or a Human, she's growing up   
much faster than normal, thanks to her Ktaarian genes." He gave a small laugh.   
"I know, whatever I'm going through, Samantha's probably feeling multiplied by a   
hundred." His voice dropped to a much lower level. "But she's Naomi's real   
parent, not just a substitute."  
  
Tuvok raised an eyebrow. "From the beginning, you have fulfilled many of the   
functions of a parent where Naomi is concerned. Do you think she considers you   
any less important in her life because you are not her biological father?"  
  
"No..." Neelix hesitated. "But that brings up another point--Naomi has a 'real'   
father, and thanks to the monthly Starfleet data stream, she's already exchanged   
letters with him. Their communication will only increase as we get closer and   
closer to the Alpha Quadrant--"  
  
Tuvok realized that this was the crux of Neelix's concerns. He was afraid of   
being supplanted, of being passed over and deemed irrelevant. Not just by Naomi   
Wildman, but perhaps by the crew as a whole. He suppressed a sigh. To some   
extent, Neelix had gone through just such a set of worries twice before--when   
Voyager had reached the Nekrit expanse three years into their journey and the   
Talaxian was no longer familiar with the region of space, as well as after his   
experience with death the following year. Tuvok had thought such fears had been   
laid to rest long ago. He opened his mouth to say just that, but shadowy   
memories of Tuvix stirred within his mind. He saw with sudden clarity a man out   
of his element, desperately trying to find his place, to prove that he was   
worthy. Feelings that were somehow familiar.  
  
"I regret that you are experiencing such fears, Neelix," Tuvok answered. "I do   
not really know what to tell you, except that despite their apparent disregard,   
the crew does appreciate everything that you do for them. Indeed, you would be   
sorely missed if something were to cause you to cease your services. In several   
capacities. As far as Naomi is concerned, based on my own observation I can   
assure you that she is indeed fond of you, and her affection should not be   
lessened as she grows up or gets to know her own father." He paused, and then   
brought up a point that Neelix had not mentioned, but was a logical outcome of   
the other concerns he had expressed. "Regarding our arrival in the Alpha   
Quadrant, barring unforeseen circumstances, the journey is still projected to   
last another two decades, possibly more. It is futile to worry now about an   
event that may not occur for some time."  
  
Neelix gave him a grateful look. "Thank you, Tuvok. I know all that, but   
sometimes it's helpful to hear it from another party. I guess I'm just feeling   
'boxed in' by circumstances."  
  
"Indeed." Tuvok was silent for a few moments, reflecting on Neelix's last   
statement.  
  
Neelix's glance fell on the fire pot. "Of course, I know that if it were you,   
you'd probably react much differently. With your capacity for logic and reason,   
you'd be able to see the situation more clearly and respond appropriately."  
  
"I may have a similar issue," Tuvok admitted finally, not meeting the other   
man's gaze. "But it is not based in logic. As a result, I don't know if I will   
be successful in finding a solution."  
  
"I'm sure you'll come up with something," Neelix said reassuringly. "As far as   
it being challenging--you've always proved adept at 'thinking out of the box.'"   
He rose to his feet. "Well, I really should be going--I've taken up enough of   
your time as it is. Thank you for all of your help, Tuvok."  
  
"You are welcome, Neelix." As the door closed behind him, Tuvok added, "And   
thank you."  
  
***  
  
The chief engineer frowned in concentration as the computer displayed the new   
schematics. Tuvok had obviously expended a great deal of time and effort on this   
proposal. The concept was simple enough--'fail-safe' forcefields that   
automatically activated at key junctions of the ship, sealing off vital areas as   
soon as any unauthorized transport or boarding was detected--but the   
implementation would be a lot more complicated than suggested. As was the case   
with many of Tuvok's other engineering ideas, including those concerning   
improving the shields and weapons. Still, the concepts were intriguing...  
  
The security chief was speaking once more, and Torres forced herself to look   
away from the diagrams and pay attention.  
  
"I am concerned at the 0.5% variance in the shield integrity we experience   
whenever we fire aft torpedoes. Such occasions usually occur when the ship is   
surrounded, and therefore the chances are high than two or more enemy vessels   
may act in tandem, focusing their fire on any perceived weakness in our shields.   
If you examine the pattern of hull breaches we've sustained in recent battles,   
you will note that over 60% of them have occurred in just such a manner."  
  
"I see," Torres replied, wondering if he were finished yet.  
  
"I have also noted on more than one occasion that we experience a small power   
drain when we go to warp from a stationary position. There is an even larger   
drain when this occurs within 2000 kilometers of a planetary mass."  
  
"How much of a drain?" she asked, concerned.  
  
"One point five percent, for the first. One point nine seven for the second."  
  
Torres exhaled in relief. "That's it? Those are well within acceptable limits,"   
she said.  
  
"With all due respect, Lieutenant, I beg to differ."  
  
"Oh, really?" Torres hastily bit back a response, reminding herself that she was   
speaking to a superior officer. Even one who came barging into her office, full   
of ideas that he insisted she investigate and implement immediately. "Look,   
Tuvok, I appreciate your concerns, but some things can't be helped."  
  
"Why is that? It is my understanding that you are continually trying to raise   
the efficiency of the warp engines."  
  
"Yes, but there are certain limits imposed from the outset, due to the nature of   
the bioneural gel packs." She hastily added, "No system is perfect; all have   
their flaws and you're right, the key to good engineering, the challenge, is to   
work around them--but still within the limitations imposed by the laws of   
physics."  
  
"I see." Tuvok fell silent for a moment. "I know that in the past you have been   
outspoken as far as the gel packs are concerned and have considered developing   
substitutes, or at least redundant systems for certain areas of the ship."  
  
Torres smiled wryly. "If I had time and the resources to spare, I would have *a   
lot* of suggestions for ways of overhauling the engines as well as replacing or   
rerouting certain ship's functions." She held up a hand. "But that's not going   
to happen. As far as developing new technology is concerned, it's the same old   
debate we've had since the beginning--allocating increasingly scarce resources   
to innovations versus maintaining the technology Voyager already has.   
Unfortunately, we can't do both." She sighed. "Quite frankly, there are times   
when I don't even know if existing equipment can be repaired anymore. For   
example, the starboard nacelle has been acting up for the last year. There are   
times when it seems to be behaving itself, others when it starts malfunctioning   
for no discernible reason. What it really needs is to be replaced altogether,   
but that's something that simply isn't going to happen unless we find ourselves   
within hailing distance of a Federation starbase."  
  
Tuvok listened patiently, or seemed to, but when he spoke it was to once again   
state his ideas of what the engineering department needed to do. Torres was the   
first to admit that many of his ideas were promising, at least in theory.   
Particularly those that dealt with developing new types of weapons, possibly   
photonic in nature, and setting up a network of independent power systems--like   
those that powered the holodecks. Or adapting some of the Borg shielding   
techniques. The last was a definite possibility. But as far as the warp variance   
was concerned--  
  
"No, for what you want to do, Commander, we'd have to come up with an entirely   
different drive system, one that would--" She broke off abruptly. "Kahless," she   
breathed.  
  
Tuvok glanced at her sharply. "What is it, Lieutenant?"  
  
Torres was silent for a moment. "I don't want to say, in case I'm completely off   
base, but...you just may have given me an idea."  
  
***  
Tuvok headed for the Mess Hall, frowning as he considered his meeting with   
Lieutenant Torres. Granted, the chief engineer had seemed receptive to at least   
some of his proposals, but had hastened to say that implementation was   
impractical or unworkable at this time. If he were a Human, he would certainly   
be feeling frustrated.  
  
He paused by the counter, looking over the day's selections. Nothing   
particularly appealed to him, or perhaps he simply wasn't hungry. He selected a   
small blue fruit and was about to leave when he heard his name being called.  
  
Tuvok turned around. "Yes, Ensign Kim?"  
  
Kim beckoned for him to join him at his table. As Tuvok approached, he noticed   
the ensign had a game of Kal-toh set up. "Can I interest you in a match,   
Commander?"  
  
"Thank you, but I do not have any time at the moment," Tuvok replied, his   
demeanor implying he considered it to be a waste of his time.  
  
"We're both off-duty," reminded Kim. "And you look as though you could use a   
break. Come on, it'll be good for you."  
  
Tuvok raised a questioning brow. "In what way?"  
  
"Think of it as a diversion, but also an exercise that helps keep various skills   
sharp," Kim answered. "As well as reminds one of the importance of having   
patience. Haven't you said in the past that's as much a factor in a game of   
Kal-toh as logic?"  
  
"Yes, I have," Tuvok conceded. He sat down and they proceeded to play in near   
silence. Tuvok appreciated the fact that the ensign did not feel it necessary to   
fill in the quiet with idle chatter, instead choosing to concentrate on his   
moves.  
  
Several minutes had gone by since either of them had made any additional   
comments. At last, Tuvok broke the silence. "Your play is improving, Mr. Kim,"   
he noted.  
  
Kim beamed at the unexpected compliment. "Thanks," he said. "I think I finally   
figured something out. My approach had been all wrong earlier."  
  
"In what way?" Tuvok inquired.  
  
"Sometimes the obvious is staring you in the face and you simply don't see it   
because you're too close to the situation, or perhaps are caught up in details."  
  
"Indeed." Tuvok inserted another rod, then sat back and waited for Kim to make   
his next move.  
  
Kim studied the board carefully, then placed his next rod. For an instant, the   
sphere shimmered, but did quite fully form. "Oh," Kim said, disappointment   
evident in his voice. "I really thought I had it there." He gave his head a   
dispirited shake. "Your move."  
  
"In addition to logic, a game of Kal-toh can be viewed as a means of bringing   
order out of chaos," Tuvok said as he inserted his next rod. A fully formed   
sphere sprang into existence. Kim stared in astonishment. "My thanks for the   
match, Ensign," Tuvok said, and quickly left the room.  
  
***  
Second Interlude  
  
The tiny scoutship continued to shadow Voyager, but it was no longer alone. It   
had been joined by others, each keeping pace with the Federation vessel.   
Blending in with the darkness, they remained undetected, even as sensor ghosts.  
  
After some time, there was a brief spurt of communication. The tiny ships,   
eleven in number, responded instantly, fanning out and then shooting ahead of   
their quarry. They positioned themselves at prearranged coordinates, taking up a   
particular formation.  
  
The word had been given. Now all they had to do was wait till they could spring   
their trap.  
  
Act 4  
  
"You wished to speak with me, Seven?" Tuvok paused at the entrance to   
Astrometrics. He had met with her two days earlier about the possibility of   
adjusting the sensors to detect any enemy vessels that might be concealed within   
nearby nebulae or otherwise masked by various astrometric phenomena. He had also   
sought a means of improving long range sensors designed to pick up unusual   
energy signatures. He hoped her summons meant she was making progress in those   
areas.  
  
Seven touched a few controls and the image of an inversion nebula, populated by   
highly unstable strands of plasma, appeared on the large viewscreen. "Based on   
Voyager's own experiences, it is known that this type of nebula may mask the   
energy signatures of several vessels, or a large facility. I have as yet been   
unsuccessful in finding a way of detecting such concealed constructs, unless   
from a distance of less than half a million kilometers."  
  
Tuvok nodded, concealing the brief stab of disappointment he felt. "Do any such   
nebulae lie along Voyager's current course?"  
  
"Not for the next 70.3 light years, which is why I have not expended a great   
deal of time attempting to solve this particular problem." Seven manipulated   
another set of controls. "Allow me instead to show you what I have spent the   
majority of my time working on." An image of a Cardassian vessel appeared. "I   
believe I have determined the reason why we were unable to detect that the   
Cardassian systems on Gul Datik's vessel were on stand-by rather than off-line."  
  
Tuvok leaned forward, eager to have an answer to a puzzle that had eluded him   
for weeks. At that moment a small 'blip' appeared across the screen. "What was   
that?"  
  
"That's odd," Seven said thoughtfully. After a few moments, she added, "It   
appears to have been a signal of some kind. It was transmitted in a single   
burst, possibly on a seldom-used frequency."  
  
"Can you identify its point of origin?"  
  
"Negative. It was too brief in duration."  
  
In their current situation, anything unusual was grounds for concern. "Can you   
isolate the signal?"  
  
"Not at present. However, if I realign our main deflector array, I may be more   
successful."  
  
Tuvok turned toward the door. "Proceed to Engineering, Seven. I will join you   
shortly."  
  
Seven made no move to go, instead continued to work at her console. Tuvok halted   
in surprise. "What are you doing?"  
  
"Attempting to isolate the signal," she said, without looking up.  
  
"How are you able to access the deflector from Astrometrics?" Tuvok asked   
curiously. "That should be a restricted function."  
  
Seven allowed a brief smile to pass over her features. "As Mr. Paris would say,   
I 'went in through the back door.'"  
  
"Fascinating. I would not have believed it possible for that lockout to be   
overridden," Tuvok said more calmly than he felt. "I would like you to show me   
exactly how you accomplished that maneuver."  
  
"So you can prevent similar incursions in the future."  
  
"Yes."  
  
Seven paused for a moment. "I will be happy to show you, Commander. However,"   
she cautioned, "what you are attempting to do is come up with 'perfect'   
protective measures to guard against all threats. Be advised that despite   
millennia of effort, not even the Borg have not been able to achieve   
perfection."  
  
***  
The red alert klaxon heralded the appearance of the captain and first officer on   
the Bridge in short order. Before the doors of the turbolift had even closed   
behind them, Janeway was halfway to the center seat. "Report."  
  
"We brought the modified sensors on line 38 minutes ago," reported Tuvok. "This   
is what appeared within the past three minutes."  
  
Onscreen, several glowing dots glittered like fireflies, weaving back and forth.   
A faint golden thread trailed from the back of each. As the bridge crew watched   
in silence, two of the threads intersected. There was a brief flash, and an   
entire section of the screen lit up. Then all went dark once more, except for   
the fireflies and their trails.  
  
"What is it?" asked Janeway.  
  
Tuvok consulted his board. "These appear to be ships of unknown design and   
origin. It is impossible to determine if there are any lifesigns aboard. The   
diminutive size--each vessel is only 4 meters long--makes it highly probable   
that if manned, there is only a single individual on board."  
  
"Try hailing them." The captain settled back into her seat and called up the   
sensor logs of the past hour.  
  
"No response."  
  
"What about the trails?" Chakotay wanted to know, frowning at his own readouts.  
  
"Highly concentrated energy beams, with signatures like nothing I've ever seen   
before," answered Kim from the Ops station. "Without our increased sensor   
capability, we wouldn't even be aware that any of this was out there."  
  
Janeway rose and walked over to the center screen. "Distance?"  
  
Tuvok answered, "The area in which they're operating appears to comprise less   
than one million kilometers. However, our sensor capability is still very   
limited; we don't know how far back they truly extend."  
  
"Do you mean to say they could have been trailing us for some time?" Janeway   
asked.  
  
"Unknown, although that is a plausible theory," Tuvok said. Almost   
apologetically, he added, "Sensors are not entirely reliable, as they have not   
been tested previously."  
  
Chakotay smiled humorlessly. "In other words, you weren't expecting to strike   
gold the first time out."  
  
"Precisely," said the Vulcan.  
  
Janeway sat back down again. "Well, I don't like the looks of this. Mr. Paris,   
back us away, nice and easy."  
  
"Aye, Captain." Slowly, the starship retreated from the glittering fireflies   
ahead. Suddenly, the ship shuddered, and then a moment later shuddered again,   
this time more strongly. A shock wave went through the entire ship, tossing them   
around.  
  
With difficulty Janeway was able to maintain her seat, although she banged her   
knee painfully against the side. When the shaking motion appeared to have   
halted, she did a quick scan to make sure none of the Bridge crew had been   
unduly injured. "What was that?"  
  
Tuvok sported a small cut over his eye which was bleeding freely. His voice   
betrayed none of his physical discomfort as he answered, "It would appear we   
have come up against a barrier."  
  
"Play back the visual record from the moment just before we made contact with   
it," Janeway ordered. "Onscreen." They watched in silence as the shock wave hit   
once more, and noticed something else as well.  
  
"Did you see that?" asked Chakotay. "Right at the moment of impact."  
  
"The enclosure--those lines had faded and become invisible shortly after they   
intersected, but lit up again as soon as we hit it," said Janeway.  
  
A beep from the Ops console drew their attention. "Something else you should   
know," Kim said. "The inertial dampeners have been affected. We can't afford too   
many more hits like that."  
  
"How can we avoid something we can't see until we hit it?" wondered Paris.  
  
"We have more immediate concerns," Janeway said grimly. "We're being   
systematically boxed in."  
  
"Maybe we can disrupt the barrier with phaser fire, or at least cause it to   
light up enough so we can map the grid," suggested Chakotay.  
  
"Photon torpedoes, used as depth charges, may be more suitable for the task,"   
put in Tuvok.  
  
Janeway looked over at her tactical officer. "All right, do it."  
  
Using the coordinates of the boundary they had just collided with as a starting   
point, a spread of photon torpedoes was released. A moment later, Kim said,   
"It's no good. Not only is it having no discernible negative effect on the   
barrier, but the energy is being absorbed. All we're doing is strengthening it."  
  
"How about mapping?" Chakotay said, "Did we at least gain something from this?"  
  
Kim shook his head. "Just a very small area. At this rate it's going to take a   
very long time to try to find an opening." Left unsaid was the thought that one   
might not exist.  
  
"All stop," ordered the captain. "There's got to be a better way of going about   
this and we're going to find it."  
  
//Captain's log. It's been five hours since we first encountered the spatial   
grid and we've had only limited success in mapping it. Working together,   
Lieutenant Torres and Seven of Nine have come up with a method of using sensor   
pulses for these purposes, without strengthening the barrier in turn or   
weakening our shields any further. It's not a perfect solution, but after much   
hard work we now have a faint ghostly image of a roughly dome-shaped enclosure.   
With Voyager at the center.//  
  
Tuvok stared intently at the image on the viewscreen. "This looks somewhat   
familiar."  
  
"You've seen something like this before?" asked Janeway in surprise. "Or have   
you found something in the Starfleet database?"  
  
Tuvok shook his head. "Negative, Captain. There are vague similarities to an   
energy field employed by the Tholians against the U.S.S. Enterprise one hundred   
years ago , but the actual composition is quite different. As is the   
circumference of the area of confinement. " He abruptly turned to the Ops   
officer. "Mr. Kim, what do you see?"  
  
Kim looked bewildered but turned his attention to the screen as well. After a   
long moment, he suddenly exclaimed, "Kal-toh!"  
  
"Excuse me?" said Janeway.  
  
"It's not a dome, Captain," replied Kim. "It's an imperfect sphere, not a dome."  
  
"Only partially formed," agreed Tuvok.  
  
Janeway caught on. "And all we have to do is determine where is the line or   
lines that will cause it to achieve its completed form?"  
  
"Precisely. That way lies our escape route."  
  
"Can you figure it out?" Chakotay asked. "We don't have a lot of time."  
  
Tuvok was already entering a series of commands into his console. "As in an   
actual game of Kal-toh, Commander, patience and logic are the key to solving the   
puzzle."  
  
After a careful study, Tuvok selected a set of coordinates and transmitted them   
to the helm. "Are you sure about this?" Janeway asked.  
  
"Not with complete certainty, Captain. However, I estimate that there is an 78%   
chance that this is the correct route."  
  
"Not the best odds, but we don't have any other options," she said.  
  
"Shields are at 49%," reported Kim. "We're going to have only one chance at   
punching our way out."  
  
Janeway nodded. "Tom, I guess it's time for implementing some of those flashy   
tactical maneuvers you've been practicing in recent drills."  
  
"Aye, Captain. Standing by."  
  
"One quarter impulse. Prepare to go to warp as soon as the 'window' appears,"   
Janeway said quietly. "Tuvok, are you ready with the graviton pulse?"  
  
Tuvok studied his controls. "The pulse will be released in exactly four seconds,   
and should hit its target in two...one...now!"  
  
A dazzling display of light surrounded the ship from all sides as the energy   
threads around them sprang to life. All except for a dark area off to the side,   
and it was there that Voyager was aiming for. The ship began shaking ominously.  
  
"What's happening?" called out the first officer.  
  
Kim raised his voice to be heard. "Too strong--the pulse was too strong! Another   
shock wave is forming!"  
  
"All hands, brace yourselves!" shouted Janeway. An instant later, the wave was   
upon them.  
  
"Shields are down to 10%!" reported Tuvok, struggling to remain upright at his   
station.  
  
*Warning: Hull integrity down to 25%*  
  
At the helm, Paris could be seen wrestling with the controls as he struggled to   
maintain his seat. The ship veered and pitched as if in a storm, but somehow   
managed to stay on course. Janeway could have sworn they executed some   
impossible turns, but somehow they were able to break free.  
  
When the shaking stopped, the captain said in a stunned voice, "We did it."  
  
"Sensors confirm space is clear," reported Kim. At tactical, Tuvok was silent.  
  
Janeway let out a shuddering sigh. "Well done, people. Tuvok, you especially--if   
it hadn't been for the modified sensors, we would literally not have known what   
hit us until it was too late." She noticed he was frowning. "Tuvok, are you all   
right?"  
  
"I am fine, Captain."  
  
"Then what's the matter?"  
  
Instead of answering her, Tuvok turned to the helm. "Mr. Paris, that last   
maneuver you performed was not part of the new tactical subroutines."  
  
Paris flashed him an irreverent grin. "Why am I the only one who can't   
improvise?"  
  
Epilogue  
  
Chakotay paused at the entrance of the holodeck, watching the scene playing out   
before him. Janeway, clad in a sweaty tank top that showed off the muscles of   
her slender arms, was fighting a large Nausicaan.  
  
The tendons of her neck standing out, she angled her head, looking for an   
opening, and then pivoted sharply. Chakotay watched as she landed a blow to the   
vulnerable area on the side of her opponent's head, then took a swift uppercut   
at his nasal cartilage. The Nausicaan howled in rage, and deflected her   
follow-up blows to his arms, catching them on the hard muscle. As Janeway tried   
but missed a blow to his more sensitive parts below the waist, he let fly with a   
leg kick that tripped her up, causing her to lose her balance. Janeway hit the   
mat, but managed to turn her fall into a roll. She sprang up again and this time   
hit her target. The Nausicaan fell with a resounding thud and did not rise   
again.  
  
"I see you've taken Tuvok's warnings about physical preparedness to heart,"   
called out Chakotay, as he made his way toward her.  
  
Janeway looked up sharply. "Computer, freeze program." She paused, hunched over,   
to catch her breath, and then straightened up and wiped her face on a towel.   
"I've included combat routines in my exercise regimen in the past. Though I will   
admit I'd been neglecting it of late. Tuvok just gave me a good excuse to get   
back into it on a regular basis."  
  
"In light of recent events, it's not a bad idea to make sure that every member   
of the crew, including the captain, is capable of defending themselves,"   
Chakotay acknowledged. Especially the captain, he added silently. Unspoken   
between them lay the Cardassian incident, and what had happened to her. He found   
himself staring at her bare arms, as if he could still see the bruises.  
  
"Not that it does any good in a situation when weapons are involved," she said,   
"But still..." Obviously feeling uncomfortable under his scrutiny, Janeway   
turned away and let her towel drop to the floor. "Did you come by to pick up   
some pointers, Commander, or was there something else you wanted?"  
  
He handed her the PADD he was holding. "I didn't want to disturb you, but you   
did say you wanted to see the latest tactical data."  
  
"It's all right; I was nearly finished with my workout anyway." She quickly   
perused the report.  
  
"That Nausicaan definitely is," he joked. "Can I ask what level this is set to?"  
  
"No, you can't." Janeway hastily added, "Don't worry--the holodeck safeties are   
engaged."  
  
"I'm glad to hear that--you could do a lot of damage with this program."  
  
"Not as much as your 'sport' of boxing," she shot back. "Of course, it's just my   
opinion, but...watching people beat each other senseless...frankly, I hadn't   
thought you were the type."  
  
He smiled faintly. "Don't let this peaceful exterior fool you." He thought   
briefly about his time in the Maquis, and the acts of violence he'd been forced   
to commit. From the look on her face, she was also remembering some of the   
things he'd once told her. He attempted to lighten the moment. "But in all   
honesty, I began boxing as part of a weight training program and to increase my   
coordination and quickness." He added, "I wasn't the most graceful first year   
cadet at the Academy."  
  
She laughed, then hastily schooled her features into a more neutral expression.   
"Thank you, Commander." She tapped the PADD reflectively. "I'll go over this   
more in-depth later, but I must say these results are promising."  
  
"And no further sign of those alien ships, or their enclosure," added Chakotay.   
"So we can breathe easier for a while."  
  
"Until the next crisis, at any rate," Janeway said wryly. She bent down, picked   
up her towel from where it had fallen and flung it over her shoulder. "I'm going   
to go take a shower."  
  
"Would you be interested in grabbing some dinner later?" he asked, following her   
to the entrance of the holodeck.  
  
Janeway shook her head regretfully. "Sorry, but I've already got a date."  
  
Chakotay stopped short, unable to mask his surprise. "You do?" He barely managed   
to refrain from blurting out, "With whom?"  
  
She smiled, as if she'd heard the second half of his question. "With a very old   
and dear friend." She gave him a playful flick with her towel, and then went on   
her way.  
  
Chakotay watched her go and then glanced around once more at the program she'd   
left running. He reflectively tapped his waist. It wouldn't be a bad idea for   
him to start some serious training once more as well, he thought. Remembering   
how Janeway took out the Nausicaan, though, he decided he wouldn't be asking her   
to be his sparring partner.  
  
***  
Tuvok lifted the teapot and raised an inquiring brow. "Would you care for some   
more spice tea, Captain?" Despite the informal setting of his quarters, despite   
their long acquaintance, he did not feel comfortable acceding to her oft-voiced   
request that he call her by her first name.  
  
"Yes, please." Janeway held out her cup. "A perfect end to a wonderful meal."  
  
"I am pleased that you enjoyed our repast. Vulcan cuisine is often an acquired   
taste." He thought, but did not add that he referred to the authentic   
dishes--not the bland imitations often found on Earth or in standard replicator   
codes, nor the equally alien versions Mr. Neelix insisted on preparing for him   
from time to time.  
  
The corners of her mouth quirked up, as if she guessed what he was thinking.   
"It's a taste I acquired years ago while working toward my doctorate at the   
Vulcan Science Academy."  
  
Tuvok poured himself a second cup as well. "You have mentioned that period of   
your life to me before, but you did not indicate if you found it a pleasant   
experience." He knew that as with other Humans, it must have required a lengthy   
transition in which she acclimated herself to the planet and its inhabitants,   
both vastly different from Earth.  
  
"It was there that I began to gain my first appreciation of Vulcans," she said.   
"A process which only intensified after I got to know one Vulcan in particular."  
  
Tuvok inclined his head to acknowledge the compliment. "As you pointed out   
several days ago, we have known each other a long time."  
  
"And we certainly had our rough spots at the beginning." She leaned forward, her   
eyes intent on his. " I don't think I express this often enough, but I want you   
to know how much I value you--and not just as an officer." He opened his mouth,   
but she wasn't finished yet. "I know that I can always count on you to give me   
your very best efforts and that's all a captain--or a friend--can ask for."  
  
She settled back on the couch, sipping her tea and looking at him expectantly.  
  
Several possible responses came to mind--to contradict her statement about his   
always delivering his best, to apologize for his inadequacies in the past, to   
affirm that he would certainly try to do better in the future--but he discarded   
all of them. Instead, he simply said, "Thank you--Kathryn."  
  
FINIS  
  
  
  
Go to Passages story 3 (7/23/01) by Cybermum  
The opportunity to trade for some top quality dilithium is one that is too good   
to pass up. But Janeway and Torres find more than they bargained for when their   
first contact/trade mission to the planet Zornon goes awry. 


End file.
